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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29970255">6:11 a.m. / 11:11 p.m.</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/baodown/pseuds/baodown'>baodown</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Not Beta Read, but reader's still in japan, does this count as an AU?, idk its light angst AND fluff, it's him at uc irvine</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 03:07:16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,134</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29970255</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/baodown/pseuds/baodown</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“It’s eleven eleven.”</p><p>Iwaizumi peers at his own clock sitting on the bedside table, his eyes tracing the red numbers glinting in the darkness. 6:11 a.m., it gleams. Less than three hours before his first class starts. More than five hours since he slid into bed in the first place. “And?”</p><p>“And,” you repeat, drawing out the word, playful and teasing. A smile shines through your hushed words. “Make a wish.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Iwaizumi Hajime/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>28</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>6:11 a.m. / 11:11 p.m.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>i lov iwaizumi hajime so much i wish i could marry him !! its embarrassing at this point how much i love him! here is the first of many fics for him hehe</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s late. Far too late. It’s <em> early, </em> even.</p><p>Iwaizumi stares up at his bedroom ceiling, the outline of his room barely visible in the darkness. He’s been in bed for nearly six hours, and he <em> still </em> hasn’t been able to sleep. It’s unfortunately been a common theme for the last few weeks, yet each evening he goes to bed as if something will miraculously change.</p><p>It never does.</p><p>Some nights, he takes it in stride, using the extra time to get work done. Other nights -- like tonight -- he can’t bear to do anything but lay there with a staticky brain, his thoughts running rampant and wild.</p><p>It’s like his head is having three conversations at once, and he’s not a part of any of them.</p><p>He heaves out a sigh. Iwaizumi’s never been one to mind the quiet, but tonight is not the night for it.</p><p>Brushing his hand through his hair, he picks up his phone off the nightstand. At first, he scrolls through a few social media apps, mindlessly letting the words fly by until he notices in the corner a little green dot near your name.</p><p>You’re online.</p><p>He wonders if you’re free right now, if it’d be okay if he called, and he pulls up your contact information, his finger hovering over the little call icon.</p><p>It’s a bad idea. He shouldn’t call. You’re probably busy, and he should be sleeping, not recklessly calling his friends. Especially not <em> you</em>. </p><p><em> But </em> he’s practically delirious from the lack of sleep he’s gotten in the past month or so, and you’d definitely be thankful for a study break, and he really does miss your voice, so before he can think logically, he presses the call button and lets it ring. It’s only when you pick up does he realize what he’s done.</p><p>“Iwaizumi?” your confused voice crackles through his speakerphone.</p><p>He freezes. He really didn’t think this through, did he? His mind goes blank, struggling to find words that aren’t complete gibberish, the absolute nonsense that you always effortlessly draw out from him. Thankfully, you keep speaking, effectively cutting off whatever absurd greeting he would’ve blurted out on his own.</p><p>“What are you doing up that early? It’s nearly five over there, isn’t it?” you ask. Paper shuffles haphazardly through the phone, and he distantly hears your writing. He wonders if you’re studying at the library again tonight.</p><p>“Almost six, actually,” he replies. “I can’t sleep. Haven’t been able to for a few weeks.”</p><p>“That’s awful,” you sigh. ”Have you tried, I don’t know, melatonin? Avoiding blue light? Those sleeping apps that talk you to sleep?”</p><p>“All but the last. No luck.”</p><p>Lost in thought, you hum. The flipping of pages pauses. “Well, if you want,” you begin slowly, “I can talk about my chemistry report that I’m working on right now. It puts <em> me </em> to sleep each time I look at it. I’m no voice actor, but maybe it’ll help you out.” Your voice falters out near the end.</p><p>Iwaizumi nearly drops his phone. He knows you’ve been busy recently, so he’d barely expected a full conversation, much less you <em> talking him to sleep</em>. He hesitates, unsure of how to reply without jumping the gun and sounding like a complete weirdo, and opens his mouth to respond <em> . </em></p><p>Nothing comes out.</p><p>You let out a tight chuckle, filling the loud silence. “...You don’t have to say yes, you know. There are plenty of other better options than me --”</p><p>“No,” he interrupts quickly, quietly murmuring your name. “No, you’re… That’d be nice.”</p><p>There’s stillness on the other end of the phone. Iwaizumi prays to whoever may be listening that he said the right thing. </p><p>“Okay,” you say softly, and he exhales in relief. “Do you know what stoichiometry is?”</p><p>“I don’t.”</p><p>“Well, you’re in luck because <em> you </em> are about to find out.”</p><p>He pulls the phone from his ear and puts you on speaker mode, holding it in a loose grip over his chest as you commence a speech regaling the details of your latest chemistry lab. It’s not fun stuff, what your report is on. Something about molecules and nomenclature. Scientific jargon and laws confusing enough for Iwaizumi to only catch a few understandable statements.</p><p>Whatever it is, it’s certainly doing the trick. It is, by far, the most boring subject he’s had the (dis)pleasure of learning about.</p><p>So instead, it’s <em> you </em> that he pays attention to.</p><p>With his phone sitting on his chest and his eyes shut tight, your words chiming to the rise and fall of his chest, the speaker buzzing against his cotton t-shirt and your voice worming its way into his skin, it’s almost like you’re really there talking to him. Almost like the way it was before you both grew up and went your separate ways.</p><p>It’s almost embarrassing, really, how quickly Iwaizumi falls at ease when it comes to you.</p><p>Can you really blame him, though, when you’re the one who thaws his icy armor, opening him up and leaving his soft parts exposed, without even trying?</p><p>You make him feel like he’s trapped the sun in his chest, the big, fiery ball from the sky carefully tucked under his ribs instead, and there’s nothing more he’d like than to cup it in his hands and keep it safe. He’d like to break it in half and share it with you, if he could.</p><p>As you quietly murmur about different elements on the periodic table, his usual gruffness melts away, and his body mellows into his bed and his face relaxes, a little smile working its way onto his lips. His head starts to get blurry, drifting off, but he reigns himself in. </p><p>(Iwaizumi would gladly sacrifice another night of sleep if it meant he could spend it with you.)</p><p>“Hey,” you whisper softly, quietly, a cleaver slicing through his drowsy mind and a gentle rumble on his chest. “You still awake?”</p><p>His eyes peep open, and he takes a second to refocus both his sight and his thoughts before responding, his voice low and gravelly. “Yeah, I am.”</p><p>“It’s eleven eleven.”</p><p>Iwaizumi peers at his own clock sitting on the bedside table, his eyes tracing the red numbers glinting in the darkness. <em> 6:11 a.m. </em>, it gleams. Less than three hours before his first class starts. More than five hours since he slid into bed in the first place. “And?”</p><p>“And,” you repeat, drawing out the word, playful and teasing. A smile shines through your hushed voice. “Make a wish.”</p><p>“It’s only <em> six eleven </em> for me,” he counters, letting his head fall back against his pillow.</p><p>He swears he can hear you roll your eyes at his words. He can practically <em> see </em>it, too.</p><p>You scoff lightly, “So? Time isn’t real, Iwa.”</p><p>(Iwaizumi doesn’t bother pointing out that if time isn’t real, then you’re contradicting your statement to make a wish at 11:11 in the first place.)</p><p>“Then what do <em>you</em> wish for?”</p><p>“<em>I </em>wish that I’ll actually finish this report on time,” you state smugly. “Now it’s your turn.”</p><p>Turning over on his side, he relents with a light huff and drops his phone face-up on his pillow. The screen lights up with each mumble you make as you work on your report, patiently waiting for him to decide in the few seconds he has. He idly ponders what he should wish for. </p><p><em> I wish I’ll pass all of my finals next week </em> would be a smart choice<em>. </em></p><p>Maybe <em> I wish that guy in my 2pm class would stop asking me for homework answers. </em></p><p>Or <em> I wish</em>...</p><p>The words roll in his mouth, tying knots around his stomach and wrapping around his tongue. His heart, lulled to a steady rhythm from your ramblings earlier, starts to beat a little faster, and his hands, fingers dug deep into his palms, start to get a little sweatier. </p><p>There’s a lot of things he’d like to wish for, and there’s a lot of things he’s <em> already </em> wished for. He’s wished on birthday cakes, on falling stars, on dandelions, on pennies in fountains and, yes, on 11:11 timestamps, yet there’s always been that <em> one </em> thing tying each one of those silent wishes together, a beacon that always leads him to the very same idea each time.</p><p><em> I wish </em>--</p><p>“Iwaizumi?” you prod on the other side of the phone. On the other side of the world.</p><p>The words dry up.</p><p>He clears his throat and flops onto his front, resisting the urge to bury his face in his pillow and let out a distressed groan. His face starts to warm at the mere thought, and he weakly states, “I wish I could fall asleep for once.”</p><p>You bark out a laugh. “Of course. Very practical.” The sounds of scribbling float through his speaker, and he focuses on that, on you, not the loud pounding in his ears or the burning on his cheeks. A giggle bubbles up your throat as you claim, “I thought you actually did fall asleep on me just now.”</p><p>“Almost did. Until you ruined it,” he responds, forcing his voice to have some semblance of normalcy in it. A casual, gruff tone. Brute-like. That’s what Oikawa always says, right?</p><p>The scratch of your pen on paper abruptly stops at his words.</p><p>“Wait, shit, really? Sorry, Iwa, I didn’t mean to wake you up,” you apologize, a guilty tone leaking through your words. “I thought I was being cute.” </p><p><em> You’re always cute</em>, he can’t help but think. <em> It’s impossible how you’re always cute. </em> He blinks a few times, staring up at his ceiling. He likes how you’re always cute. He likes the sound of his nickname with your voice, too.</p><p>“But does that mean it helped?”</p><p>“Hm?” he hums, hand reaching up to his phone, fingers gently tracing its shape.</p><p>“You know, the whole boring you to death with chemistry facts thing. Did it help?”</p><p>(<em>This time </em> , Iwaizumi doesn’t bother revealing that it wasn’t the chemistry that nearly soothed him to sleep, although he can’t deny it didn’t help. It was <em> you </em> that brought him to the edge of slumber.</p><p>In the best way possible, of course.</p><p>Simply being <em> near </em> you would’ve done wonders on his psyche, but he’s over five thousand miles and a plane ride away from home, and beggars can’t be choosers. Iwaizumi’s lucky enough that you picked up the phone.)</p><p>“Yeah, it did.” he swallows thickly.</p><p>You let out a sigh, content, and resume your work. “Call me again next time you can’t sleep, then. Whenever you want. Preferably not two hours before you’re supposed to wake up.” He ignores your pointed tone. “Maybe next time, I’ll teach you about statistics.”</p><p>“Okay,” he agrees. “Statistics sound good.”</p><p>“Promise you’ll call?”</p><p>He promises.</p><p>The conversation lulls for a moment before you decide to take advantage of the silence and, intent on getting him to fall asleep one way or another, delve back into your nonsensical lecture about atomic structures and periodic properties and other chemistry things he knows nothing about, and if he wasn’t so damn tired, then he’d be on the edge of his seat listening to you speak, but he <em> is</em>.</p><p>So he lets himself relax, lets your hushed words wash over him, lets his mind slowly dip into unconsciousness, lets his body sink into the mattress and his eyelids flutter open and closed to the tune of your voice.</p><p>Open and closed, open and closed, open and closed…</p><p>The sunrise starts to peek through his curtains, a hazy light creeping in the corners of his room. <em> What time is it? </em>he briefly muses, feeling the warmth of the sun skim over his body and listening to your soft rambles resonate in his ears. His eyes grow heavier and heavier until all he sees is darkness. </p><p>Iwaizumi drifts away to the sound of your voice.</p><p>(<em>I wish you were here with me right now.</em>)</p><hr/><p>The alarm goes off at 8:00 a.m., an earsplitting noise blaring in time with the ticking of his clock, and Iwaizumi awakens with a jolt. With the room doused in sunlight, his body sprawled out on the bed, the blanket tangled around his legs, and absolutely no recollection of his dreams, he lethargically realizes that for the first time in weeks, he’d slept like a rock.</p><p>Well, like a rock for a mere two hours, but a rock nonetheless.</p><p>With a heavy groan, he shuts the alarm off and grabs his phone. A bright red notification looks back at him.</p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <em> One Missed Message: </em> </span>
</p><p>good night, iwa! (:</p><p>(<em>sent at 6:27 a.m.</em>)</p><p> </p><p>As promised, Iwaizumi calls you again later that day, earlier than two hours before his wake-up time. And as promised, you bore him with statistics.</p><p>He falls asleep before midnight.</p><p>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>that's it! my first fic that's fluffy! it was very fun to write because i normally go for angst. it was also a new experience because it's all just in One Moment; i normally do a lot of major contemplation of the past shoved into one fic, so it was interesting working with dialogue and being in the "now". i'd love any feedback, if you have any!</p><p>hope you guys enjoyed!!</p><p>here's the <a href="https://baodown.tumblr.com">tumblr</a> and <a href="https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4TMD5zkoL61N3OzJpsE8Pz?si=97840e3f8f2c4d7b">playlist</a>!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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